


Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

by MsThunderFrost



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Thranduil, Creampie, Established Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Felching, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Short One Shot, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, cum sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: Prompt: Thranduil is perfectly happy to let Legolas top, as long as he, um...cleans up after himself when he's done.





	Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt at the Hobbit Kink Meme: https://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=26245122#t26245122

Thranduil was _always_ beautiful, but there was something absolutely _radiant_ about him now, splayed out beneath Legolas, pale skin flushed a delicate crimson and glistening with sweat from their excursion, chest heaving as he desperately tried to catch his breath…

Though it was a rare treat for Legolas to top, the Elvenking was never disappointed. His son had stamina for _days_ , and never failed to leave him utterly blissed-out and satisfied.

Legolas was smiling, still kneeling between the King’s legs, his hair in all manner of disarray. Those beautiful hands were gently massaging Thranduil’s thighs, keeping those powerful legs spread wide. After all, Thranduil had been quite clear the first time his darling prince had nervously suggested that they might ‘spice things up’ by letting Legolas take the lead every once in a blue moon…The Elvenking did not spread his legs for just anyone, and certainly not for messy princes who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves.

Legolas did not think the demand unreasonable. Besides, it was rather intoxicating, watching the normally poised and polished King fall apart beneath him as he feasted upon his own spend, made all the more decadent because it was mixed with a flavor that was undeniably _Thranduil_.

He stooped down, gently brushing his lips along the inside of his father’s thigh. A breathy moan fell from his father’s soft, kiss-swollen lips as his channel winked, the rose-bud slick and glistening with Legolas’ spend. He eyed it hungrily, swallowing hard to soothe the sudden dryness in his throat. Continuing down toward his ultimate destination, he suckled lightly upon his father’s pale flesh, a soft, barely-there flush rising to the surface of the skin. While Thranduil took great delight in marking his boy, Legolas knew better than to leave marks that would survive the night.

There were times when the Elvenking’s vanity still managed to astound him.

It was not long before the prince found his face between the legs of his King, and he paused a moment, inhaling the musky scent of sweat and sex that clung to Thranduil’s half-hard cock. “Ada…” he murmured, eyes wide as they flutter up to meet the King’s half-lidded gaze.

A hand tangled in Legolas’ hair, nudging him ever closer to his final destination. His nose brushed against Thranduil’s perineum, causing the older elf to shudder and a fresh glob of semen to ooze from his spent channel. “Are you awaiting a formal invitation?”

The _slurp_ of his tongue over his father’s abused hole was particularly obscene, and the King’s grip in his son’s hair tightened as he drew him closer…He suckled lightly, spit and seed glistening upon his lips as Thranduil’s body surrendered his son’s essence. Thranduil’s head hit the pillow with an audible _thwump_ , his silver-blonde hair splayed across his chest, his face, his pillow…he was the image of debauchery as he slowly, languidly rocked his hips against Legolas’ face, urging his son’s tongue deeper into his depths, murmuring words of lust-drunk encouragement as he reminded him not to leave a single drop behind…

Legolas moaned, wildly thrusting his tongue into his father’s impossibly tight heat. He dragged his teeth along the sensitive rim, clamping down softly and tugging ever so slightly—the act elicited the most delectable scream from the ancient Elvenking, and not for the first time, Legolas is thankful for the isolation of the King’s bedchamber. Though his father knows no shame, he did not think he would be able to bear it if he knew that others would be so privileged to hear the sounds their King made when lost in the throes of pleasure.

Drawing back only slightly, he thrust a finger into the raw, winking hole and massaged it in slow, lazy circles. Thranduil whined, eyes opening just so—when had they fallen shut?—to watch as he drew the finger out, the digit wet with salvia and semen, only to thrust it between his lips and begin to suckle as a child might a piece of candy. A soft flush came over Legolas’ lips as the flavor melted over his tongue, and Thranduil, unable to restrain himself any longer, dragged the boy up by his hair and crashed their lips together in a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than lips. He could still taste Legolas’ essence upon the boy’s tongue…

“Oh, my sweet boy…whatever will I do with you and your filthy, filthy mouth?” Thranduil teased, his smile fond as Legolas drew back, making a show of licking the glistening fluids from his lips.

Legolas stared at his father’s erection, the impressive length red and swollen and in desperate need of attention once more. He smirked, “I can think of a few ideas.”


End file.
